


Swainson's Thrush

by LadyVisenya



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: M/M, mike needs more love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-20
Updated: 2017-11-20
Packaged: 2019-02-04 19:42:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12778110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyVisenya/pseuds/LadyVisenya
Summary: Mike laughs realizing Stan probably thinks he’s still in the regional park next to his family’s farm.“Sorry,” he tells Mike, making to leave, “I’ll just-““Stan,” Mike responds, grabbing his wrist before he can leave, Stan’s skin impossibly warm and soft in the crisp morning air, “it’s fine, really. I was only teasing. You can bird watch on the farm anytime you want.”





	Swainson's Thrush

Mike knows Stan often goes birdwatching early in the morning. Anyone who knows Stan knows that he loves nothing more than spending a quiet day spotting finches and songbirds and even common ducks that don’t seem like anything special to him. It’s why Mike had gotten Stan an ornithology book for his last birthday. It had cost a full days work, but it had been worth the joy on Stan’s face when he had opened it, smiling his usual small smile with none of the tightness and stress he usually carried around. 

So he’s not that surprised when he finds Stan out bird watching one day when he’s out early in the morning letting the cows out to graze before practice. He pauses for a second, looking at Stan, who has yet to notice him there, looking more at ease then Mike has seen him in years. His curls styles so that they’re not frizzy but soft, he has the scarf Ben had knitted him on. Stan looks ethereal in the fog out here, the early morning light lending an elegance to his usual seated pants and starched shirts, like one of the fae in his grandmothers stories about never making deals with strangers and dancing in the moonlight. 

Mike feels like an intruder seeing Stan this open and unguarded. 

He clears his throat and its gone as Stan finally notices him standing in the long grass. 

“Mike,” he says warily, “how long have you been there?”

“Just a few moments,” he admits, “didn’t want to stare you, or the birds.”

Stan smiles softly at him, “The early morning is the best time to bird watch. It’s when they’re all getting up and flying out to find food. You could almost imagine them telling each other where the best bugs and seeds are. But I didn’t count on there being this much fog,” he shrugs, pushing a stray curl out of his face. 

Mike wonders if his hair is as soft as it looks. 

“What about you?”

Mike laughs realizing Stan probably thinks he’s still in the regional park next to his family’s farm. “Taking the cows out to pasture. The usual.” 

His smiles drops almost immediately, a stiffness arising in it’s place, the same stiffness that has caused Stan to drift away from all of them, claiming studying and more after school clubs than he has time for, all to get into the right schools and make his father proud. 

“Sorry,” he tells Mike, making to leave, “I’ll just-“

“Stan,” Mike responds, grabbing his wrist before he can leave, Stan’s skin impossibly warm and soft in the crisp morning air, “it’s fine, really. I was only teasing. You can bird watch on the farm anytime you want.” 

He does relax, if only a little, shoulders still stiff. That’s always been a thing with Stan, he’s always trying so hard, over thinking. It makes him one of Mike’s most thoughtful friends, but also his quietist and most serious friend. 

He lets Stan’s wrist go, realizing he’s been holding it for too long. 

“I thought you had practice today,” Stan asks, his tone just on the side of accusing. Bill and Richie had masterminded a whole day out for the lot of them. Bill was going to drive them all to the next town over, where there was more than an old movie theater and a library. 

Mike had told them all he was going to be busy with the team until two. At least he wasn’t captain of the soccer team. He didn’t think he could keep up with being captain of two teams. 

“I do, but I’m helping out before I go. Besides,” he tells him, “I like watching the cows. They’re gentle animals, too trusting and a bit stupid.”

Stan scoffs, which for him is practically laughing. 

Mike smiles right back at him. “I’m serious!” 

“I think you’ve just been on tumblr too much,” he retorts.

They both laugh with each other, his arm around Stan, pulling him towards him. He’s warm, even through his thick pea coat. Mike wonders what Stan would do if he kissed him right now? It feels right, like if he waits he’ll never get another moment this perfect again in his life, another chance. 

But he also knows Stan and he’s not ready to rest their friendship like that yet. They still have another four months of school left before they all leave Derry and start their lives. 

“Maybe,” he finds himself saying and it must be the right thing to say because they’re laughing again. It’s not that funny but Mike can’t stop himself and now Stan’s properly laughing. “But who doesn’t want to run off to some european country and farm.”

Stan wrinkles his nose, “it’s a lot harder than people think.”

Mike gives him a roll of his eyes, still smiling too let Stan know he’s only teasing, as Stan’s eyes widen in realization. 

“And you already know that,” he sighs, “of course you do. You live on a farm.”

Patting Stan on the back, too close he thinks, he can see himself reflected in Stan’s honey eyes, “it’s okay man.”

“Is it?” But Stan’s smirking and Mike knows he’s good. Not fine, not okay. He’s good. 

And then Stan’s leaning in to kiss him, his lips soft against his own. It’s a quick kiss, steady and sure. He distantly wonders how long Stan has been mulling this over. He’s not one for hasty decisions. 

When he pulls back, Mike has to stop himself from kissing him again, first looking at Stan, wanting to know he’s good. 

He won’t meet his gaze and he can see the panic in his shaking hands, as Stan takes a step back, turning away from Mike. “Fuck, I’m sorry. Let’s just forget this. Please can you just-“

Mike cups Stan’s sharp cheeks with his hands, looking into Stan’s eyes, wanting him too know it’s okay. It’s more than okay. Mike kissed him back and Stan’s still freaking out. “Hey, look at me,” he says softly, waiting until Stan stops looking like he’s a second from bolting before continuing. “It’s okay. It’s okay,” whispers reassuringly. “We can forget this if you really want to, but I’d rather not. I like you a lot.” 

And then he kisses Stan slowly, to let him pull away if he wants to, if he needs to.

He doesn’t. 


End file.
